Poison
by Nika Ashton Malfoy
Summary: A story based on the song. H/D slash


_**Poison**_

(Poison- a negative influence: something that exercises a powerful destructive or corrupting force, especially in an insidious way; a toxin: a substance that causes illness, injury, or death; a pollution) I've become involved in a dangerous situation, I'm letting myself be poisoned; oh, not in the traditional, caustic substance being introduced, but in the former most definition I have found for you. That's about right, a negative influence; he does seem to exercise an sinister, venomous aura about him when it comes to me, but you see, I'm in love with this poison- that is, person.

Every time that blond head appeared above the random heads of brown, black and even a few shocking reds in the crowd, a tingle of anticipation and expectancy would sweep through me. I could never understand, though, the cruelty that would, that could spill forth from one that looked so very articulate as you; not at the beginning. The glares sent to me amongst the smiles for those others you deemed so worthy; I longed for you to smile my way just once, even to smirk in that way that only you seemed capable of, and so you instead turn your charms to those in my surround.

Damnit, I know we could never be, but does that thought alone keep me placid and in check, a thrashed whipping dog. I stand afar; knowing that with proximity comes the break to my famous resolve. I could hug you I suppose, instead of trying to ruin that gorgeous face with my fists; perhaps it would change everything betwixt us. I know the wrongness of my yearnings, yet, temptation still haunts like a ghost of long since past. It is as time fades from future to past, mayhaps making things easy to put behind me and a bit harder to hold against you in my captive soul. I've discovered myself on several occasion, watching those lips of yours; Watching as you smile, as you talk, as you think and teeth come into view just for a brief intercourse as you lie deep in thought. 'Should anything be this tempting?' I wonder.

The thought of those smooth, graceful lips upon my own, your taste seeping its way atop my taste buds makes me cringe in fear and shiver in anticipation all at the same time. I feel your touch in my sleep and crave your affection in my dreams; the want, slowly killing me from within, shutting down my battered heart and burning my soul like the scalding hot tears that fall upon my awakening and finding you are not near. These chains of love have a solid hold on me, a prison from which I could never find the strength to break free, to which I could never summon the will or force of depth.

We had it, what I've been longing, if only for a brief drift into infinity, but surely it ensnared me more than any other weapon known to man; a snare that reaches deep and anchors me into place ensuring my total placidity. The look of you, the one glance, touch and taste that I was allowed burrows into my perceptions of you and creates a sweet fantasy that mocks my every wakeful moment; the sight of so much flesh matched and marred with the tang of leather renders me almost undone. My name on that painted smile representing your lips is almost more than I can bear. The word I need to hear resound from you and tear through my fragile flesh, the barbed wires of your acid tongue creating a bittersweet melody. My fingers rip the space between us and I finally know the sound that was just never quite as satisfying to hear as just a figment in a dream. But as always I awake to find that I may never get to hear that silken voice, rough and ragged and praying my name like a charm to save you from the devil himself, as if you weren't indubitably his most faithful servant of savage, pleasuring torture and taking in it much carnal delight.

The only one who managed every time to get so deep underneath my skin that the words actually penetrated through the fog that seemed to continuously surround my mind, my heart, my very soul; Your flesh was a beacon to me, a guide to where my palms longed to caress but perhaps could never, instead pushing me to turn to using my fists. More and more the thought of just once intertwining our bodies together and feeling those full pouting lips was almost an overwhelming thought within both conscious and subconscious mind. Always it was just another sick fantasy of my overactive imagination.

The very thing I so crave and yet the very same, sucking out my heart's blood like an emotion-targeting vampire; there is no flushing you out of my system. I'm resigned to the knowledge that I surround myself with you, my own personal cyanide for fear of you ever being gone too far. The bonds of enemies-and over the thin line that separates from hate, the shackles of unrequited love-have no place in a relationship like ours but is still undeniably a connection not easily severed by cause of the lust I feel you invoking from within me.

Yes, you are my poison, and my passion. One look from you, one stray word phrased just so, could kill me. My essence would destruct completely and it would please you so to be aware of the supremacy you have over me, total and complete. I would bleed profusely from my soul-so much so that there would be no tourniquet big enough-and all the while my spirit decayed, your laughter and delight would resound around the world as the final piece of proof that you enjoyed your game well enough; that you were the triumphant winner. It does me no good to know this; still I cannot imagine a world where I was without you, my venomous love. I cling vainly to the source of my eventual destruction, and you remain a constant pillar to which the tether- I'd dare not touch for even within it the festering heap that is what will become the last vestiges of my demolished spirit will stand within the empty shell I can be sure to become -of our mutual imprisonment tent stands steady like the pantheon during a storm. I want to love you, but you're so much poison in my veins and still that doesn't deter the beginnings of what will surely morph itself into hopeless infatuation.


End file.
